Book review

In Chicago Hustle and Flow: Gangs, Gangster Rap, and Social Class, Geoff Harkness weaves through the intricate and volatile world of rap microscenes, the subdivisions of music scenes that include geographic spaces, social networks, and related personal identities. Utilizing video-taped interviews with rappers and producers as well as observations of recording studios and rap venues, Harkness rolls down the proverbial window and allows the academic tourist to peep into the maligned, yet much loved world of gangster rap. The author uses the lens of rap to paint a picture of inequalities reinforced by social class. The framing seems somewhat askew: even though a considerable amount of time is spent explaining social class, the reader is left unconvinced that social class is the most salient explanatory factor. Interestingly, this takes little away from the text, as the cultural conflict, symbolic interactionist, and social constructionist perspectives provide fascinating, poignant, and unexplored examinations of the scenes, symbols, and perceptions related to underground gangster rap. Harkness introduces the book by explaining two primary microscenes—“Gangstas” and “Backpackers,” or socially conscious rappers —and frames the differences between the two as rooted in social class. The author then introduces a host of characters representing an array of respondent types. The presentation of respondents in chapter 1, “Who Shot Ya,” sets an ethnographic tone that is both tantalizing and brimming with academic curiosity and human emotion. The chapters that follow provide insight into the elements involved with the rap microscenes in a much more academic tone, with the literary promise set up in the initial chapter becoming significantly less prominent. Chapter 2, “The Blueprint,” is primarily a theoretical one elaborating the prevalent, yet unlikely, belief in the American Dream, reinforced by the few ultra-famous capitalist rappers and the framework they provide for the “come-up.” Though this chapter focuses on social class, several other gems lie within the text. These include minute but still pertinent arguments, such as the common assertion that whites are the primary consumers of rap. There are limits to this assertion however, as it is based on data that completely ignore underground rap, warranting more thorough academic investigation. A related discussion, briefly mentioned in this chapter but which consistently resonates throughout the rest of the book, is that of situational authenticity. In many of the author’s descriptive scenarios, the reception of a rapper was based almost entirely on the audience’s initial perception of that individual before performing, which was based on race, clothing, etc. Authenticity seemed to play an essential role in most scenarios; just as importantly, it could be managed, manufactured, and socially constructed. Though a social class framework is given as part of the


Reviewed by Christian L. Bolden
In Chicago Hustle and Flow: Gangs, Gangster Rap, and Social Class, Geoff Harkness weaves through the intricate and volatile world of rap microscenes, the subdivisions of music scenes that include geographic spaces, social networks, and related personal identities. Utilizing video-taped interviews with rappers and producers as well as observations of recording studios and rap venues, Harkness rolls down the proverbial window and allows the academic tourist to peep into the maligned, yet much loved world of gangster rap. The author uses the lens of rap to paint a picture of inequalities reinforced by social class. The framing seems somewhat askew: even though a considerable amount of time is spent explaining social class, the reader is left unconvinced that social class is the most salient explanatory factor. Interestingly, this takes little away from the text, as the cultural conflict, symbolic interactionist, and social constructionist perspectives provide fascinating, poignant, and unexplored examinations of the scenes, symbols, and perceptions related to underground gangster rap.
Harkness introduces the book by explaining two primary microscenes-"Gangstas" and "Backpackers," or socially conscious rappers -and frames the differences between the two as rooted in social class. The author then introduces a host of characters representing an array of respondent types. The presentation of respondents in chapter 1, "Who Shot Ya," sets an ethnographic tone that is both tantalizing and brimming with academic curiosity and human emotion. The chapters that follow provide insight into the elements involved with the rap microscenes in a much more academic tone, with the literary promise set up in the initial chapter becoming significantly less prominent.
Chapter 2, "The Blueprint," is primarily a theoretical one elaborating the prevalent, yet unlikely, belief in the American Dream, reinforced by the few ultra-famous capitalist rappers and the framework they provide for the "come-up." Though this chapter focuses on social class, several other gems lie within the text. These include minute but still pertinent arguments, such as the common assertion that whites are the primary consumers of rap. There are limits to this assertion however, as it is based on data that completely ignore underground rap, warranting more thorough academic investigation. A related discussion, briefly mentioned in this chapter but which consistently resonates throughout the rest of the book, is that of situational authenticity. In many of the author's descriptive scenarios, the reception of a rapper was based almost entirely on the audience's initial perception of that individual before performing, which was based on race, clothing, etc. Authenticity seemed to play an essential role in most scenarios; just as importantly, it could be managed, manufactured, and socially constructed. Though a social class framework is given as part of the underlying differences between backpackers and gangstas, savvy individuals learn to adjust to situational expectations accordingly.
Of the remaining book divisions, chapter 3, "Bangin' on Wax," explores the symbolism of the recording studio and how even unemployed rappers construct being in the studio as "working," an element inherent in achieving the American Dream. Chapter 4, "In Da Club," examines the varied structural and social dynamics of live performances, including conflicts and gang representation. Backpackers, which seem to have been conspicuously absent for much of the book after the introduction, reappear in this chapter as Harkness explains the different types of venue at which they perform versus where gangster rappers perform. Chapter 5, "Capital Punishment," very briefly covers the relationship between crime and the gangster rap scene, but gives a carefully delineated explanation of risk management strategies rappers use to avoid getting caught up in violence.
Chicago Hustle and Flow is an important contribution to sociological studies concerned with race, music, and inequality, and to criminological studies on gangs and culture. Of central importance is the detail in which Harkness explores an arena that has received little academic consideration and thus consequently has been plagued by false assumptions and attributions. The author engages an expansive exploration through symbolic interactionist and social constructionist frameworks, providing several topics for researchers to further explore symbolism and situational authenticity in rap. The intricate dynamics of Chicago gangs as related to the gangster rap microscene is something that is not found anywhere else and provides context for violence and conflict management, vital reading for connoisseurs of gang research, cultural criminologists or anyone interested in reducing urban violence.
By focusing on the scene and the culture, rather than on lyrics, the reader escapes the folk-devil personification of gangster rappers, and is able to understand how and why individuals in this subculture pursue a particular "blueprint" to achieving the American Dream, despite overwhelming odds being stacked against them. The reader also begins to understand the legitimacy and social (or street) capital that crime provides for an aspiring rapper, making the extrication of the two much more problematic and much less desirable. For cultural critics lamenting the "malaise" purportedly caused by gangster rap, Chicago Hustle and Flow undertakes significant work toward breaking down what actually occurs within a cultural reinforcement loop, and is certainly worth the read. While this monograph does not resolve the "art imitating life imitating art" debate, it certainly contributes to the discussion in a significant and empirical way.
While social class is indeed argued in the text as inherently important, it is obscured by other concerns. This relates to the primary weakness of the book, its writing style, which lacks focus and follow-through. As previously stated, the introduction to the individuals featured in the book sets an ethnographic tone, with seemingly significant foreshadowing. At several points, Harkness' description of his interaction with "Habit" is filled with dread and foreboding, as if disaster TBS • Volume 46 • Number 2 • Summer 2016 is imminent-yet the anticipated outcome does not eventuate: Habit's ultimate ending is, thankfully, not the least bit disconcerting. The pace of the book is a rollercoaster of literary excitement, sad vignettes, technical explanation, and theoretical abstractness, such that by the end of the book the reader no longer feels the same human concern for the respondents that the beginning of the book elicits.
In describing false consciousness and the numerous barriers impeding aspiring rappers from success, the last paragraph of the concluding chapter is the most eloquent in the book. The author writes with rare conviction here: Harkness tends to do an excellent job acknowledging intellectual predecessors and alternate perspectives, which can come at the expense of him articulating a strong argument. Though the social concepts he addresses are admittedly "slippery," without sustained engagement and an explicit stance, the reader is left confused and unfulfilled. This leads to difficulty in identifying Chicago's Hustle and Flow's target audience. Undergraduate students most interested in the topic may be deterred by the abstractness of theoretical debate. Graduate students and scholars of sociology and criminology will certainly enjoy the uncovering of subcultural context, the multitude of avenues of further study of rap, and the intersection of race, class, and culture dynamics. For that echelon of academia, this book should certainly be on the reading list, as it is likely to launch new lines of thinking and inquiry. Despite these shortcomings, the study offers a fascinating and much-needed contribution to a variety of fields.

Reviewed by Mark Christian
Freedom's Children is a historical account of the build-up and aftermath to the 1938 labor rebellion in Jamaica. Written in a clear narrative style, Colin Palmer delves into a surprisingly underresearched aspect of Jamaican history to add importantly to the unfolding of modern Jamaica.
Amid the global Great Depression and the imminent arrival of World War II, and 100 years after slavery formally ended, the masses of Jamaicans, of darker hue, continued to live in abysmal social conditions under British colonial oppression. Palmer unearths an ugly side of twentieth-century British colonialism and the oppression of Jamaican nationalists who sought to combat the brutality of racism and class discrimination. Out of this experience came two rival leaders